


Leather

by sloganeer



Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, tell me that you love me more [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Bliss, Husbands, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: The lights were off except for two lamps on either side of the bed, both covered in red fabric that coloured the whole room. Patrick tried to take it all in. He hadn’t looked closely the last time he had been here. He hadn’t noticed the mirrors on the ceiling.“Hold my hand, honey.”Patrick reached out, blindly, and David found him in the dim red light. He laced their fingers together, their fingers with their wedding rings, and when Patrick finally got a look at his husband, that’s when he figured out what David had planned.-This is year 3.





	Leather

“Sooo…” David sidled around the counter, fingers walking up Patrick’s arm to his shoulder. “Are you planning anything for Friday?”

“Hmm? Is there something special about Friday?”

“You think you’re so cute.”

Patrick caught his hand before David disappeared into the back room. They crashed into a hug, and Patrick slid his hands beneath David’s sweater to make it a sexy hug because the shop was empty, and it was almost closing time. 

“Are you planning something for Friday?” Patrick asked, between kisses under David’s collar. He danced them around in a circle, humming the tune that never left his head.

“I might be,” David admitted. “Leave your calendar open.”

After a quick look through the front windows, Patrick danced them backwards to the counter and hoisted himself up to drag David in between his open legs. All the rules about canoodling in the shop had long been overturned. They were solid, they were married, and everyone in town had walked in on them kissing at least once. 

Patrick stopped caring who saw how much he loved his husband.

Friday was three days away, but David managed to keep his secret. Patrick made token attempts to weasel it out of him—he tried to withhold coffee and blowjobs, but David always won in the end. Alexis didn’t seem to know anything about David’s plans because when Patrick asked what she knew about Friday, he instead had to sit through ten minutes of her manicure techniques. Stevie definitely knew something, but Patrick knew better than to try and get it out of her. She was on his very short list of best friends, but he also knew where her loyalties lay.

“Sooo…” David said, handing Patrick a fork with his lunch on Friday afternoon. “I’m going to leave an hour early. Is that OK?”

Honestly, Patrick had been surprised his husband showed up at the shop this morning at all. David’s mind was a wonderful place, but it was usually only capable of one thing at a time. 

“Just as long as I get to know why,” Patrick told him. 

“Soon,” David promised, mouth full of potato salad.

He left not long after lunch (“It’s only 3, David!”), but it was a slow day. Patrick checked the website and answered a few emails. He swept the floor and dusted the shelves. They had three more customers, and then he flipped the sign to CLOSED, turned on one of his own playlists, and worked through his checklist. 

The text from Stevie came at exactly 5 o’clock. 

_come to the motel_

Not exactly what Patrick thought David had been planning, but OK. He trusted his husband, and Patrick was sure whatever he was imagining, David had come up with something even better.

He pulled the car into a spot in front of the Roses’s old rooms, even though none of them lived in the motel anymore. It was muscle memory, so many years of parking here with David and making out in the front seat because neither of them wanted their night to be over. Patrick walked over to the office. Stevie was standing in front of the desk, bag over her shoulder, ready to go, and looking rather impatient.

“Good,” she said, pushing away from where she was leaning. She grabbed his hand and put a key in his palm. “He’s in the Love Room. Have a good night.” Stevie patted his cheek, and then she was gone before Patrick could even say thanks.

Patrick had only been inside the Love Room once, when they were moving David, officially, into their apartment. He knew David still kept the majority of his wardrobe there, but on a rotating basis now. Sweaters and shoes would disappear from their closet and new ones appeared. Patrick was in charge of their joint accounts; he knew how much David spent on eBay. 

He also knew Mr. Rose had been pushing David to give up the room so they could rent it out again. Patrick got to hear all about Mr. Rose’s plans for the motel because he cornered Patrick for business advice whenever Patrick couldn’t get away fast enough.

The key was warm, from Stevie’s hand and now his own. David wanted him to come right in. Did he want Patrick to pretend to be someone else? Is that what all of this was about?

He knocked on the door instead. 

“What now?” he heard David whine through the door. “I’m already in costume, Stevie. I don’t think you want to see me like this.”

Patrick knocked again. He could hear David’s sigh, the thump of his feet on the carpet, and the squeaking bed. He waited for David to open the door, which he did, but only enough for Patrick to see his face.

“Hi!” he said, eyes wide, eyebrows arched. “She was supposed to give you the key.” 

Patrick held it up to dangle in between them. “I felt weird. Is this a scene?”

David rolled his head backwards and opened the door so Patrick could slide inside. The lights were off except for two lamps on either side of the bed, both covered in red fabric that coloured the whole room. Patrick tried to take it all in. He hadn’t looked closely the last time he had been here. He hadn’t noticed the mirrors on the ceiling.

“Hold my hand, honey.” 

Patrick reached out, blindly, and David found him in the dim red light. He laced their fingers together, their fingers with their wedding rings, and when Patrick finally got a look at his husband, that’s when he figured out what David had planned.

David was in black leather high tops, the laces undone, but tucked inside so they didn’t look messy. David was wearing Patrick’s baseball socks (the white ones from his home uniform, not the green ones he wore for away games) and they were pulled all way up over his calves. David wasn’t wearing much else, though, just a pair of black bikini briefs and a black leather jacket, neither of which Patrick had ever seen on his husband before.

“Wow.”

David looked down at his own feet, then back up at Patrick. “It’s OK?” he asked. He was nervous, Patrick realised. He didn’t know why his husband was nervous.

“You’re beautiful,” Patrick told him. He pulled David into his body, fingers sliding around his hips, brushing against the rough leather. He reached down and curved his hands around David’s ass, surging up on the balls of his feet to thrust up against him.

“I wasn’t sure,” David said between their mouths. “Maybe it’s too weird?”

“It’s not weird.” Patrick stepped backwards, their arms stretched between them. He stared his husband down, then back up again, and Patrick had to kiss him. Why weren’t they still kissing? “It’s so good, baby.”

But they got rid of the shoes and socks quickly, before their bodies hit the bed. Patrick barely had enough sense to get his own clothes off; David had to help when the rolled up sleeves of his shirt got stuck around his elbows. They collapsed, laughing, underwear tangled around Patrick’s knees and David’s hair flat against his forehead. 

“Look up,” Patrick said. 

They looked. They curved their bodies together. Patrick pulled David’s leg over his hip to look at that ass in the mirror. His eyes followed his hand as he explored David’s back. The leather was warm. David’s mouth was hot.

“Like this?” David asked. He sat up in Patrick’s lap, knees around his hips. He moved up and down like Patrick was already inside him. “Tell me how you want me, honey.”

“Like this,” Patrick said. He reached up to grab hold of the lapels of David’s jacket, crashing their mouths together, thrusting his tongue against David’s, biting at his upper lip. Patrick could come just like this.

But David slowed him down and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “Don’t wear yourself out,” he said. David rolled away, to the far edge of the enormous bed. Patrick watched him in the mirror—the way his toes curled with effort, the way his hips moved with desire. “We have all night,” David told him, settling back in Patrick’s lap, briefs gone, lube in hand, that leather jacket still framing his naked chest.

“I hope you don’t expect me to last all night.” 

David’s eyebrows wriggled darkly above his hooded eyes. He sucked two of Patrick’s fingers into his mouth, teeth digging sharply into his flesh, and when he let them go with a pop, he was ready with the lube. David guided Patrick to rub between his cheeks, and then he let Patrick do the rest.

Sliding both fingers inside, Patrick held David’s hip with his other hand. He knew just what David needed. He knew where to press and stretch, and he knew the kind of moan that meant David was ready for Patrick’s cock.

“Condom?” Patrick asked. 

David shook his head. “Not our sheets. Not our laundry.” He braced himself with his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, thumbs digging almost painfully against the bone.

Laughing, Patrick let go of David’s hip to stroke himself a little harder, then holding the tip against David’s hole, they sank into heat together. David held himself still, so Patrick did, too, every muscle clenched to keep from thrusting up. In the mirror above the bed, Patrick could see David’s face changing from that first grimace to familiar ecstasy. He opened his eyes, grinning, and Patrick knew he was caught.

“You can fuck me now,” David whispered to their reflection.

Patrick’s hands started around David’s hips, but he kept creeping up and up, under the jacket, then on top, fingers exploring all the belts and rings and rough edged leather. This jacket had been lived in. This jacket had been David once. This jacket was a part of Patrick’s husband he finally got to see.

“More,” David demanded. “You have to give me more.” 

Incredibly, Patrick found more to give.


End file.
